Faultless
by johnnysbrasiliansexmistress2
Summary: Sequel to That Little Bit. Three months after that story ended, it continues. If only Melissa had known the drama that would ensue, would she have done everything the same? JacksonxMelissa
1. In Sickness and In Health

Chapter Title: _In Sickness and In Health_

**Disclaimer**: I do not own _Flight 29 Down_. Nor do I own Melissa, or Jackson, or NathanDaleyTaylorEricLexAbbyJoryIan, or Captain Russell.

**Summary**: Sequel to _That Little Bit_. Three months after that story ended, it continues. If only Melissa had known the drama that would ensue, would she have done everything the same? JacksonxMelissa

**A/N**: This is a sequel to my other story, _That Little Bit_. Just a precursor, this story is rated T for some controversial topics that will come up within the next few chapters. Also, it doesn't exactly follow the series to a T, because it's a continuation of the other story, which deviated from the plotline of the series. In this story, the group didn't actually split up, so Abby is still living with them and Captain Russell, Ian, and Jory are still lost in the jungle.

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Melissa Wu crouched in the brush of the shallow island forest, examining twigs and sticks on the ground for firewood. It had rained the night before, just enough that their firewood had been soaked beyond possible use. She and Daley were sent into the woods, despite the fact that the woods had been soaked as well. They split up to cover ground, although they never went too far from each other or the camp.

It was still early morning. Melissa felt comfort in the soft shimmer of the sun's fresh new rays. She hadn't been feeling well that morning, and Jackson had reassured her that the fresh morning air would make her feel better. Now she wasn't so sure she agreed.

She had knelt and bent over, placating the nausea. For once, she wished she hadn't thought of Jackson. The thought of him made her feel excited and slightly nervous. She closed her eyes and held her forehead for a moment before finally vomiting on the ground. She wiped her mouth quickly as she heard Daley coming through the trees.

"Mel, are you okay? I thought I heard something over here." She noticed that Melissa had sprung up from the ground to face her. She kept the suspicion in her mind, but didn't address it.

Melissa regretted standing so quickly, but she didn't want Daley to see her being sick. It was nothing; she didn't need to bother everyone. "Nope, I'm just over here getting wood." She smiled good-naturedly, hoping that Daley didn't notice how unsteady she was.

"Okay, well if you need anything I'm over in that area." She gestured toward an area bathed in sun a bit farther away. Melissa looked away awkwardly.

"Um, Daley, do you mind if I go back? I think I've found enough dry wood to satisfy the fire for a while." Her stomach churned angrily and for a moment she was afraid she would be sick in front of Daley. She swallowed and returned her gaze to Daley.

"Yeah, sure. I'll pick up the rest of what I can find and meet you back there." Melissa nodded and waited until Daley had left before she brushed dirt over the vomit and picked up the wood, ready to head back.

Her mind was crammed with thought and worry. She didn't understand what she could possibly have that made her sick. She would have said it was something she had ingested, but she hadn't drunk any unsanitary water, nor had she even eaten breakfast that morning. Maybe she was just hungry. She could eat and rest a bit back at the camp. That was all she needed.

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Three months. It had been a bit over three months since they had crashed on the island. Jackson looked up at the sky as he sat against a tree, waiting for Nathan to finish making breakfast. At home, there was something peaceful about sitting amidst nature and looking at the sky. Here, it was just another passing thought. He stared into the blue and couldn't help wishing that he was at home, and that the only thing he had to worry about was relaxing and looking at the sky. Then again, with all the potential trouble he was in at home, maybe it was a good thing he wasn't there instead.

With these thoughts buzzing agitating circles around his mind, the only thing that could pull him from his reverie was Melissa stumbling out of the woods with a meager pile of dry wood, looking hot and bothered in her own way. She set the firewood on a tarp next to the fire pit, then turned toward the beach and sat in the sand, laying herself back unusually slowly until she was on her back, facing the sky with her eyes closed. Jackson observed her cautiously for a moment, but it was Nathan who stood up from what he was doing and started down toward the beach. He gestured for Taylor to take over preparing breakfast and proceeded down the beach toward Melissa.

"Hey," he said jovially, hopping to bring her a bit of the morning shine he was feeling. It didn't seem to be working. Her eyes didn't open and her arm remained strewn over her face. She was breathing deep, controlled breaths that made Nathan worry that something was wrong with her. "Mel?"

"Hi, Nathan," she muttered at him, keeping her face covered. He sat next to her and looked her over, trying to figure out what might be wrong.

"Something wrong?"

"Is breakfast ready yet? I'm really hungry."

"Mel, what's wrong?"

She removed her arm from her face and turned, squinting, to face Nathan. "I don't know," she said quietly. He could tell that, even though she didn't show it on her face, she was worried, as was he.

"Well… how do you feel? Is something hurt?"

She wanted desperately to just tell Nathan what had happened that morning, to let him and the others figure out what was wrong with her and fix it. But they already had plenty of daily work to do; they didn't need to be worrying about her woes, as well.

"It's nothing. I'm just feeling a bit under the weather. I had some bad dreams last night, and it made it hard to sleep. That's all."

Nathan looked down at her, not sure whether her story was believable or not. Then he shifted himself to get more comfortable and smiled sympathetically. "This whole place is a bad dream. All right, well," he started getting to his feet, looking down at her in the sand, "just get some rest. I'll send someone down here with food."

"Thanks, Nathan," she said wearily. He turned and started walking away, leaving her to put her arm back over her face and lie in the warmth of the rising sun, trying to quell the furious nausea still eating at her insides. She kept her mouth closed and took deep breaths, trying to make the nervousness go away.

A few minutes later, she heard someone crunching in the sand behind her head. Without looking up, she heard a voice. "Hey, Mel," Jackson said cautiously. Melissa looked over at him, and instantly regretted it. The sunlight was almost painful to look at, and it just made her head feel hotter and her insides churn. She rolled onto her side and Jackson knelt beside her. He looked toward the camp to make sure no one was watching him, then put his hand gently to Melissa's side. She sighed gratefully, but still felt uncomfortable and sick. Jackson had food in his other hand, but somehow it didn't seem so appealing to her. She looked around at the water, the sky, the sand, but nothing soothed her nerves, so she just covered her eyes again.

Jackson rubbed her side, although he was beginning to think better of it. He brought the hand to her forehead. She seemed to be warm, although she didn't have a fever. He sat fully in the sand and moved her hair away from her forehead, putting the platter of food in the sand. "What's wrong?"

"Jackson, I really don't know. I'm just hungry, that's all." She looked at him, hoping to add to the credibility of her next statement. She gazed at him in earnest. "I'm fine."

Jackson still looked uneasy, but took her hint and stood. "Okay, well, if you need anything…"

"You'll be in the same square foot of island the rest of us are stuck in?" He laughed, and she put her hand out and gripped his ankle, hoping to comfort him enough to make him go away. "I'm fine. I'll eat and feel better by this afternoon." She let go of his ankle and smiled genially at him, covering her eyes so she could look up at his. He looked concerned, but she knew he wouldn't bother her if she didn't want him to. So he nudged at her arm with his foot in a gesture of affection, then turned and walked back up to the camp. Melissa sighed, thankful to have finally gotten rid of everyone, and closed her eyes, peacefully falling asleep.

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"Wait a minute! Why does _she_ get to sleep in the middle of the day?" Taylor groaned at Nathan and Daley. Daley looked to Nathan for a reason, but Nathan didn't know. Just as she was about to concede and wake Melissa, Jackson came over from his fishing spot and stopped them.

"She doesn't feel well," he said, hoping this would fend Taylor off. It didn't; he should have known.

"You think _I_ feel good? _We're stuck on a desert island, Jackson!_ Why should she get special treatment?" On any other day, Jackson thought, she would have a point. He rubbed his forehead with wet, calloused hands, and hoped that Taylor would go throw a tantrum at someone else.

Thank God for Nathan.

"Look, Taylor, if Melissa feels that she's sick enough that she needs to lie down, then that's probably what she should do."

"Says who? Eric does that all the time, and you didn't even believe _him_ when he _was_ telling the truth!"

Daley looked at Taylor as though she thought the blonde might be joking. "Eric's track record isn't exactly angelic, Taylor. Melissa works really hard. If she's sick, I trust her to do the right thing." Taylor looked like she might challenge Daley, but the looks Nathan and Jackson had on their faces seemed as though they might sear her flesh if she said another word. She huffed and groaned, then turned toward the plane to find the battery charger and her bikini.

"So, Jackson," Nathan said hesitantly. "What _is_ wrong with Mel? She's been asleep for hours."

For the first time in a long time, Jackson looked worried. "I… I don't know. She said she was just hungry, but…"

"Okay, chill," Nathan said, holding his hands up to Jackson. "Look, I know Melissa. She's not stupid: if something is really wrong, she won't angst it out."

"He's right," Daley piped up. "But, if you wanna check on her… we won't stop you."

Jackson felt the corners of his lips curve upward and his tense mind began to unwind. Nathan and Daley were good friends. They would sooner eat toxic oysters than let Melissa get hurt. He nodded to each of them slightly and walked down the beach toward Melissa's sleeping form.

When he looked down, he prepared to see the girl suffering some sort of ailment in her expression, no matter how violent or docile. What he saw was Melissa, sleeping soundly on her back, her features more carefree than they had been… well, since they had crashed. The ultimate look of peace overriding her other emotions was so powerful, somehow coursing through him and making his lungs seem empty, floating. He knelt beside her, his knees sinking into the shallow layer of gritty sand. He was about to touch her awake to see how she was feeling, but couldn't bring himself to do it. He lightly slid her hair away from her forehead and felt her skin. Her forehead felt cool against his fingers, so she obviously didn't have a fever. He sighed and removed his hand, running it smoothly over her arm and resting his hand back on her shoulder. She stirred, but didn't wake against his cool fingertips. He wanted more than anything to lie down next to her and sleep his own worries away, but he knew that there was fish to be caught and firewood to be collected. With one last lustful look at her sleeping form, he stood up and turned toward the camp.

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When she awoke, Melissa had the oddest feeling of fulfillment and comfort about her. She was warm, but not the nervous warmth she had had before she went to sleep. It was more of an easing feeling, one that enabled her to stand up in the sand and look at the camp behind her with an all-new optimism. Then she looked out at the horizon, suddenly noticing that the sun was going down. _Oh no! I slept through, like, half of the day!_ She glanced down at the neglected food that Jackson had brought her earlier. Some sand had blown onto it, and it looked cold and congealed. She picked it up and flung it discreetly into the jungle. Then she turned and prepared to do her share of work – and more – until dinnertime.

As she strode toward the fire pit and picked up a water jug, Daley, who was carting a pouch of fruit from the jungle, intercepted her.

"Hey, Mel!" she said excitedly, setting the fruit down outside of the fire pit and approaching Melissa again. "I guess you're feeling better, huh? If you're not, you don't have to haul water. Eric can manage, even if he doesn't want to."

Melissa smiled and shifted the bottles so they would stop smacking her legs. "Relax, Daley. I'm fine; it was just a little bit of nausea. And besides, we always need more water."

Daley looked at her shrewdly for a moment, then shrugged and put her hand on Mel's shoulder.

"Fine by me. Just don't overwork yourself… until tomorrow, at least." The girls laughed, and Melissa nodded and walked toward the path to the well. As Melissa trudged away, Eric came up beside Daley, almost making her jump.

"What's up with Melissa? Is something wrong with her?" he asked quietly, fearing that Mel was still within hearing-range.

"I don't know, Eric. All I know is that she was asleep on the beach all day, and now she's doing _your_ job."

"Well, I can't blame the girl. I mean, if _I_ had been completely useless all day, I would want to do _my_ share of everyone's work when I came around."

Daley looked at him skeptically. "Since when?"

"Yeah, ha ha, you're a real comedian." As he was walking away, he said to her, "Leave the comedy to me, Captain Uptight."

"Ugh!" Daley said, smirking beneath her annoyance. "Get back to work, Eric!" she called after him. He waved his hand, as though to say, "Yeah, right." She rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to fruit and fire.

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Melissa was returning to camp with two full water jugs when she bumped into Jackson, who appeared to be hacking at a piece of bamboo. He stopped immediately and turned to face her. He was sweating through the thin fabric of his t-shirt, his face was scarlet from the base of his neck up, and his chest was heaving slightly. She smiled at him and he wiped his forehead with the back of his hand.

"Hey, Mel!" she heard for the second time that day. Evidently, they had been worried about her.

"Hey, I see you're working hard," she said, maintaining a good-natured grin. He noticed the full jugs in her hands and dropped the machete on the ground, reaching out and taking them from her.

"So are you," he said with a slight chuckle. "You shouldn't be working so hard if you're sick. See, _Eric_ should be working so hard."

Melissa sighed, but kept her smile. "Why is everyone acting like I'm dying?" she asked jokingly. "I'm—" she took the jugs back from him "—fine." He sighed and shifted, still tired and sweaty.

That didn't keep him from saying, "If you need help with anything…"

"Yeah, I know, you're here."

"I was going to say, 'go bother Nathan or Daley,' but that works, too," he said with a slight grin. She forced a fake sigh and then laughed at him.

"There's only one thing I need you to do so I can get back to work."

He looked about ready to carry her from there to the camp. "What's that?"

"I need some… incentive. You know, so that I'll have the strength to carry on with my chores," she smirked. "I think a kiss will do."

He smiled and came toward her, stepping away from the bamboo trees so he could hold her in place. His hands wrapped instinctively around her hips and his firm, hot body pressed to hers. "I can do that."

She turned her head to receive him, his tender lips easily enveloping hers. She felt immeasurable comfort in his embrace, his warm, rough hands at her sides. His mouth tasted heavenly, the sweetness of coconut milk scintillating her senses. She let the jugs thud softly to the ground as her fingers snaked over his fiery chest and she continued to taste him, until finally her chest felt as though it would explode from the passion and lack of breath.

"Mm," she said dazedly. "It's been too long since I got a kiss like that. I almost forgot how you taste." Even through the initial flush on his skin, she could tell that she was making him feel embarrassed, but somehow happy. He hugged her and she kept herself comfortably pressed against him, feeling his heart beating against her hand.

"I have to get back to work," he said as he let her go. She nodded and picked up the jugs as he walked back toward the bamboo stalks. She was about to walk away when he let out a strangled yell.

She whipped around. "What happened?" She looked at him and deduced the problem within moments. He'd left his knife on the ground. He wasn't wearing shoes. "_Why aren't you wearing any shoes?_" She dropped the jugs again and knelt by his legs. The machete had left a fair gash in the bottom of his foot, and it was bleeding enough that he probably needed it wrapped up.

"I was fishing earlier, and my shoes were all wet, so my feet were getting irritated," Jackson replied through gritted teeth. Mel sighed and tore a piece of tattered fabric from the sleeve of her shirt, tying it tightly around his foot to placate the bleeding. He didn't wince once, but she could tell he was in pain.

"Come on, we have to get you back to camp so we can treat it properly." She stood and moved to his side, pulling his left arm over her shoulders. "Don't put any pressure on the cut when you walk."

"The jugs—" 

"Leave them! I'll come back for them later."

Jackson limped at her side as they walked through the jungle back to camp, and all Melissa could think the whole time was, _Lord, this has been a long day_.

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**A/N**: So there's a peek of the story to come. Tell me what you think, but if you have any idea what's going on with Mel, _please_ don't comment on it. It'll all be revealed soon, I promise.


	2. The Difference Between Wrong and Right

Chapter Title: _The Difference Between Wrong and Right_

**Disclaimer**: I do not, nor have I ever, owned _Flight 29 Down_ (if you've read any of my other stuff, you would probably already know this).

**A/N**: Don't really have much to say about this chapter. Hopefully that last chapter caught your attentions, so here comes chapter two. Enjoy!

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There was a look in Jackson's eyes that made Melissa uncomfortable. She knelt in front of him, holding the tattered bit of sleeve to the gash on the sole of his foot. He looked as though he was angry, although she didn't see why. Daley hurried up to them and sat in the dirt next to Melissa, examining Jackson's foot.

"It's a pretty clean slice," Daley said observantly. "The bamboo doesn't leave splinters, so you should be okay." She took out the antiseptic and some gauze pads, squirting some antiseptic on a pad. Jackson winced as it made contact with his foot.

"Don't use too much," he said to her, now holding the winces.

"It's going to hurt," Melissa replied matter-of-factly, "no matter how much we use."

"No," he said. "I mean don't waste it."

"I won't." Daley dabbed ointments on his foot, after cleaning it with filtered water. "How did you manage to step on your knife?" she asked him. She had some suspicion as to what Jackson and Melissa could have been doing that would have distracted him enough that he would step on his own knife. She daydreamed of sharing the same sort of intimacy—more often than she would have liked—with Nathan. She looked at him, waiting for an answer. This could be humorous.

"I… well, we were, uh…" He looked uncomfortable, and his eyes flickered momentarily to Melissa, then back down at his foot. "I just didn't see it, that's all."

Daley grinned at the two of them. "I think I can figure out why you didn't see it. I'm not stupid, guys." Melissa looked slightly abashed, but Jackson's face maintained his usual deep, unreadable look.

"So, will I live?" he asked, gesturing to his foot as Nathan walked over toward them.

"Geez, man, what'd you do to yourself?"

"Jackson and Melissa were doing something unmentionable and Jackson stepped on the machete." Nathan winced sympathetically, but the two of them were laughing behind their concern. Melissa looked embarrassed, and Jackson seemed to be getting more and more annoyed. Mel was the first to notice, and she looked up at Nathan and Daley.

"Hey, uh, could we possibly get a second alone?" she asked innocently.

"You think we should trust them alone?" Nathan asked Daley. Daley scoffed theatrically.

"Well, if Jackson's going to maim himself every time they get 'intimate,' then I don't think so." They continued to smile, but Melissa was adamant.

"Guys, please?"

"I'm taking the knives with me," Daley said with a laugh. She and Nathan turned away from them and went to wash clothes or something by the plane.

"What's wrong?" Mel asked, sitting on the log beside him. Jackson started rolling his pant-leg down roughly.

"I was so stupid," he said gruffly. She smiled at him, trying to bring up his spirits.

"It's just a cut, it'll go away."

"No, you don't get it."

"What? Explain to me. What's wrong?"

"How could we have been so…?"

Mel's face fell and she looked at him solemnly. "So… what?"

He couldn't seem to look at her. He stared anywhere on her body, as long as her eyes couldn't pierce him. "Wrong."

Her eyes widened a bit. "Wh…What do you mean?" She could feel her emotions rising from her chest to cloud her mind as she waited for him to speak.

"What we did… it was reckless."

"It happened once!"

"Melissa, we're still doing it! Just because we don't go kissing each other for everyone to see, doesn't mean we're not affecting the group. Look at what I've just done. We can't afford to use up our supplies on stupid mistakes like stepping on a knife—"

"Jackson, you can't break up with me if there was never officially anything going on!"

"I'm not breaking up with you. I just want to stop whatever intimacy there is happening until—"

"_Don't_ say, 'until we get off the island'!" she yelled at him. She was now between worrying that the others would hear her, and wanting to scream her lungs out. "Why do we keep bothering to say that? What if we never get off this island? I really don't want to die before I get the chance to be with you—"

"You've _been_ with me!" Jackson flared. He said this quietly, lest someone should hear him. "What more is there?"

Melissa stared at him, seeming pitiful and disbelieving, yet angry.

"You really don't know what a proper relationship is like, do you?" Jackson looked ashamed, and Mel felt true pity take form.

"We can't do this any more," he said in a low, somber tone. "We're going to hurt everyone, not just us."

Melissa's expression solidified and her voice seemed to be the only ice present on the island. "Maybe we should just stop talking altogether." Jackson looked mildly surprised, but didn't take her seriously.

"We can't do that. We have nowhere to hide."

Melissa stood violently from the log, accidentally scraping the back of her shin a bit, and stomped off. "I'm done with this!" Jackson stared morosely at her back, which walked away toward the dim shoreline. How on earth had _that_ switch come about?

Daley and Nathan cautiously approached Jackson. He looked bewildered and miserable.

"Jackson, what—?"

"Forget it," he said, cutting Daley off and stalking away to find the fish he had caught and clean them. She looked at Nathan and the two of them felt suddenly overwhelmed.

"What's up with Mel lately? She seems a bit on edge."

Daley looked uncomfortable. "I think she might be sick."

Nathan stared at her, calculating. "Sick how?" he asked.

"This morning, when we were collecting wood together, I heard some weird noises coming from the clearing she was in. When I came over, she looked kind of out of it and said she wanted to go back, so I just let her."

Nathan now shared her look of discomfort. "What did it sound like?"

Daley said hesitantly, "Like throwing up."

"Oh, jeez."

"So what should we do?" Daley looked at Nathan expectantly, but Nathan just looked helpless.

"Nothing. We shouldn't do anything until she asks us to."

"Or if it gets really bad." At this comment, Nathan looked sick, himself.

"Right," he said feebly.

The two of them started walking toward the fire to prepare for dinner. As Nathan sat, Daley put her hand to his shoulder and asked, "You don't think there's anything really wrong with her, do you?"

Nathan looked at her, but said nothing. _Please, God, let her be okay._

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Melissa watched Jackson over her dinner of oysters that night. He seemed to have taken his personality and locked it up somewhere in his own depths, leaving nothing but the disturbed, blank shell of himself to interact with them for the rest of the day. She didn't understand what _he_ should be hurting over; it was she who had basically been told to go screw herself—

Why was she thinking like this? She had never been given any real reason to be angry with Jackson. Even when Eric had revealed to them Jackson's problems at home, she had still felt some need to be there for him. Not to mention, the two of them shared an extremely close bond, which they had consecrated about three months ago. So why should everything be off-kilter now? She looked down at her oysters and frowned. She could really go for some ice cream right about now.

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He couldn't help but stare at Melissa for a few minutes as she looked at her oysters. She seemed pensive, and every so often he could tell that she was looking at him, but he made sure to look away. He knew it was a very elementary game to be participating in, but he didn't care. He was determined to understand what was going on with her that everything was just so wrong.

Abby sat next to him, picking at the fish he had caught, and once in a while she turned to him and asked if he was okay. He wasn't entirely sure what sort of answer she was expecting to get, but when she asked he appeased her with an, "I'm fine, just tired," and she would go back to her food.

There had to be something wrong. Melissa had never snapped at him. Ever. She was always the most levelheaded person around, and everyone knew they could count on her to be calm and kind. Maybe that was what made her anger so pure and electrifying, coursing through him like a current, stinging his entirety at once. He didn't know.

All he knew was that he had to talk to Daley and Nathan. It seemed that they knew something he didn't. He looked over at the two of them, but they were in some sort of conversation with Eric at the opposite side of the fire. He decided that, if something _was_ up with Melissa, they probably shouldn't discuss it around the others, especially Melissa. She seemed exceedingly irritable, so talking about her might just set her off on him again. He was almost afraid of what she had to say; if she told him to stop loving her, he might have to just walk into the ocean and hope that the current would either carry him to Guam, or simply drown him. He didn't have a preference.

He looked at her again. She didn't seem inclined to look back. He quickly finished eating his food and got up to excuse himself for bed.

"Where ya goin'?" Nathan asked him, still smiling in the wake of the conversation with Daley and Eric.

Jackson answered lazily, "Bed. Night." They all waved and said good night to him, and he disappeared into the tent. The girls slept in the wooden shelter now, so at least he wouldn't have a problem with having to sleep in the same ten square inches with her. He took his shirt off, the slight chill in the air feeling fantastic against his strained muscles and over-tanned skin. He slid wearily into his sleeping bag and stared at the fabric of the tent walls._ This day has been way too long_, he thought, and fell fitfully asleep.

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**A/N**: Yeah, that chapter was kind of a filler. Sorry it was so short, but hopefully the next chapter will be better. The true drama starts in Chapter 3. Anyway, read and review this one, please! Oh, and I maintain the warning that, if you know what is going on with Melissa, PLEASE don't publicize it. I want that to come out on its own.

The sky was a profound, dusky blue and the air around them was moist with the residue of tropical rain, yet somehow streaked with a cool, desiccated breeze that caressed and clung to their skin. The forest around them had a captivating scent, sharp and natural—she assumed the smell of wet palm trees. Before she could say a word, she absorbed the soothing energy of the weather around her. It seemed to make telling him that much easier.


	3. Ohmygod

Chapter Title: _Ohmygod_

**Disclaimer**: Any references to _Flight 29 Down_ belong to DJ MacHale and all those other lucky people who get to work with Corbin and Johnny. Yeah.

**A/N**: Okay, the drama starts here! Hopefully this chapter will be more eventful than the last. All right, I'm done talking. Enjoy!

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A week later, Melissa woke up feeling the same nausea she had felt the previous week. She tried lying in the sand again and eating fresh fruit, but it just made her feel more restless. The others had only just started waking up, and Melissa looked frantically to the trees. _I have to get this over fast_, she thought miserably.

She stood and ran toward the cover of the forest, desperate for relief. As she ran, it felt as though her stomach was being throttled, but she had no choice if she wanted to stay hidden from the others. She reached the tree line, ducked behind the nearest tree, and vomited. Then she heard a _crack_. She spun just in time to hear:

"_Melissa?_" Daley.

Melissa was at a complete loss for excuses. Her mouth almost opened, but then she remembered that she had just thrown up. She shut it tight and swiped at her lips vigorously.

"Okay, so now I _really_ want to know what's going on with you. You can't have eaten yet—"

"I had fruit this morning, before you guys woke up."

Daley stared at her skeptically. "And it's the exact same fruit you ate _last_ week when you got sick finding wood with me. And it just so happens that you're the only one who's eaten it. Coincidences like that don't exist, Mel."

Melissa looked as though she'd been caught robbing a convenience store. "Daley, it isn't what it looks like. It can't be that serious!"

"I have to tell them, Mel," Daley threatened levelly. Melissa looked mortified.

"Day, you can't!" she cried, discreetly pushing dirt with her shoe to cover the sickness on the ground. "Please, I'll figure out how to make it go away."

"Melissa, what if you have something like what Jackson had? We can't just keep letting you throw up every morning—"

"It's not every morning!" Melissa interjected hurriedly. "Wait, does everyone else know?"

"No, they don't know. And that's not the point!" Daley said persistently. "My _point_ is that you can't just go on like this. It may not be serious now, but if it gets serious, we'll regret not doing anything about it now." She looked at Melissa gravely.

Melissa started walking away from Daley and out of the woods. "Daley, don't worry," she said sweetly. "I've got everything under control." With that, she turned around and headed toward camp, eager to leave the conversation.

Truthfully, this was the fourth time in the last two weeks that she had woken up feeling sick. The trees of the tree line had become allies in her game of hide and seek against the others. Each day, she became just a little bit more careless, but today was the first time that anyone had caught her. She was coming to think that she might not care if the others found out that she was sick. Then they could medicate her and she would stop throwing her guts up when she woke up.

But, for now, she wouldn't be a pest.

She walked into camp and grabbed a papaya in one hand, a knife in the other. She brought it out to the beach and started slicing it into pieces, popping them gingerly into her mouth to see if she could keep them down. So far, so good. She just hoped it would stay that way. The last thing she needed was to be sick all over the beach. _Gee, _that_ would be fun!_

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Daley stared as Melissa strutted away, then rubbed her eyes and turned to go back to camp, herself. She watched Melissa grab a papaya and a knife, then walk by herself to the beach. Whatever. She needed Nathan.

And to speak of the devil… as she walked back into the camp, Nathan's bushy hair and lean form exited the boys' tent groggily.

"Nathan!" she called to him, careful not to wake the others just yet. He looked up at her, still yawning and scratching his sides.

"Oh, hey, Day," he said breezily. "What's—?"

Before he could get the rest of the thought past his lips, Daley thrust her arms over his shoulders and hid her face in his shoulder. Nathan stumbled and caught her around her back, holding her tightly to him and turning to look at her. They didn't get to show blunt affection very often, but when they did, he was willing to give it to her.

"Tell me what's going on," he said to her calmly.

"I was about to ask you the same," she said, her voice muffled against his shoulder. He put his hands to her arms and gently pried her away from his body. She looked a bit shaken up, but she wasn't crying.

"What are you talking about?" he asked.

"Melissa."

"Oh," he said, a look of comprehension renting his features. He looked at her seriously and asked again, "What's going on?"

"I saw her throwing up," Daley said miserably. Nathan looked slightly taken aback, but he continued to listen attentively.

"When?"

"Just now," she replied, gesturing toward the woods. His eyebrows slowly went up, and Daley couldn't believe how cool he was being about all of this. She just wanted to know what was wrong with Melissa.

Nathan brought his hands to her shoulders and slowly rubbed up and down Daley's arms in an effort to calm her. The role-reversal that had apparently taken place here was astonishing: he was being calm and collected, and Daley seemed unhinged and even slightly afraid. She seemed way too upset about one case of nausea…

"It's not the first time." Well that answered _that_ question. Suddenly, it clicked.

"What?" he asked for confirmation.

"She threw up last week, while we were gathering wood. I wasn't sure that was it, but she pretty much just confirmed it. I don't know what she has, and she doesn't want treatment."

"Uh, Day," Nathan said, his hands caressing her arms once more as he began to move her aside. "I need to go talk to Melissa. Where is she now?"

"She just walked down to the beach," she said, pointing him toward the shore. "I think I'll go get myself some food."

"That's a good idea." He gave her a last comforting glance and said, "I'll be right back."

His feet sank into the sand as he trudged down to talk to Melissa. It seemed that the new fears buzzing viciously around in his head were weighing him down. _What's wrong with her? Could it really be that? Why hasn't she said anything to me? Aren't we best friends? It had to be Jackson. It certainly wasn't _me_, and if she did something with Eric… no. And she and Jackson… they were about three months ago now, isn't it?_ That was about the extent of his sane thought. Anything after that was a continuous progression of _Ohmygod Ohmygod…_

"Mel?" he asked, his voice cracking nervously as he approached her from behind and sat in the sand beside her, sand sticking to his palms.

"Oh, hey, Nathan!" she said, seeming cheerful. He couldn't tell if it was a front or if she was really happy to see him. Either way, he couldn't muster the energy to seem at all happy.

"Mel, I need to talk to you about something," he said, his tone that of utmost seriousness. Melissa looked at the remains of her fruit mournfully.

"Daley told you, didn't she?" she asked him quietly.

"Yes," Nathan said impatiently, "but—"

"Listen, it's not that bad. I just wasn't feeling well this morning. It's a one-time thing."

"A one-time thing? You mean, it never happened before this morning?"

"No," she said innocently.

Nathan put his forehead in his hand tentatively. "Why are you lying to me? I know you were sick last week getting wood with Daley. She told me." He looked up at Melissa, hurt and question on his face. "It wasn't just then, either, was it? How many times has it happened?"

She couldn't lie to him any more. He looked so upset with her already. "Four."

"_Four?_ Jeez, Mel." He put his hands back to his head and let them slide into his already-tangled hair. "Do you have any idea what's going on?"

Melissa didn't look at him, but slowly started shaking her head. "It can't be—"

Nathan scoffed and said with disbelief, "It _can_ be serious, Melissa. You've thrown up four times in the past… what, two weeks?"

"That's about right," she said and petered off. Finally, she looked at him. "Why, what do _you_ think is wrong with me?" He looked at her cautiously, then brought into words what was flooding his mind.

"How long ago was it that you and Jackson… you know?" he asked awkwardly.

She rolled her eyes as she counted. "God, Nathan, I don't know. I'm losing track of time at this point."

Nathan continued staring at her, nervously calculating. "If I've got it right, I think it was probably… three months ago, more or less."

"Okay, so?" Melissa asked, genuinely confused. Nathan looked at her and thought, _This would be acceptable if I was talking to _Taylor

"Melissa, come on. You had sex with Jackson three months ago, and now you're nauseous, and you also seem to be sleeping a _lot_. If you were Eric or Taylor, we would probably have yelled at you by now. Come on, Mel. You took health in school."

And that was it. Melissa's eyes opened into an alarmed, disbelieving look she hadn't shown him in a long while. Her lips parted slightly, as though she was suddenly finding breathing to be a difficult task. Her nostrils flared and she pulled her knees in closer to her chest. "Oh my god," she whispered, tears cracking obscenely through each word.

"Oh, Melissa," Nathan sighed as he saw that she was starting to break down. In truth, he didn't know how strong he could possibly be for her when he was still trying to swallow the idea, himself. He twisted to face her and stretched his arms around her, pulling her tightly to his chest. She convulsed under his hold, and the chant of "Ohmygod ohmygod" seemed to have been transferred from Nathan's mind to Melissa's lips as she said it, over and over again.

For an hour, Jackson watched as Nathan held Melissa and she just cried for him. Yes, oddly enough, it seemed that she was actually crying _for_ him: the two of them looked perfectly content to be together, no matter the situation. Well, they had always looked comfortable like that, but it had never seemed consequential to him until now. There was only one thing that he and Melissa shared that she didn't have with Nathan. The problem was, she could easily change that, and that depressed him. He couldn't make her love him.

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Nathan could only comfort Melissa for so long. There were tasks to be done and people to feed, which he was reminded bluntly when his stomach chose to groan very loudly. Melissa looked at him and laughed, hiccupping involuntarily, her face still moist. He brought his hands to her cheeks and wiped them with his thumbs.

"Will you be okay here? I have to go make food. I think there's a bit of fish and stuff left over from yesterday." He looked around pensively, then back at Melissa's blotched and miserable face, questioning her.

"I'll be fine," she said weakly. They both knew she wouldn't be fine for quite a while, but that didn't stop Nathan from making his next vital comment.

"You know, you have to tell Jackson." He had deduced that this was definitely a result of Melissa's relations with Jackson, and her abashed reaction confirmed that belief. But he had to be sure. "It _is_ his, isn't it?" He watched as her face contorted between surprise, consideration, and embarrassment in a sum of about three seconds.

"Yes!" she squeaked. "You and I haven't… and I _certainly_ haven't done anything with Eric! And well… you knew that morning after Jackson and I spent the night in the woods."

"Does anyone else know?" he asked her. She looked panicky at the question.

"I don't think so. I haven't said anything, and I really don't think Jackson would want to tell everyone something like that."

"Okay, well, you definitely need to tell him, Mel," Nathan recommended. She looked nauseous at the mere thought.

"I will. I won't be _happy_ about it," she smiled grimly at him, and he returned the smile, "but I will."

"Good." He patted her arm and handed her a banana that he had had in his pocket. "Eat something. Whenever you decide to tell Jackson about this… I'll be there for you. Okay?"

Melissa smiled warmly at him and began to peel the banana. "Thanks, Nathan. You're a good friend." He rubbed her arm a last time and stood up, went back up to the camp.

"Oh, this is not good," Nathan said to himself as he began to rummage through their fruit stores. He saw Daley pass by behind him and gave her a small wave. She smiled at him and proceeded into the jungle with her empty fruit sack.

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Jackson, in an odd fit of aggravation, stomped into the woods after Daley. Nathan, who seemed immersed in his business with the food, didn't notice him, and Jackson didn't feel like calling for his attention. After watching his liaison with Melissa a mere five minutes ago, he found that he wasn't eager to talk to either of them.

When he finally caught up with the red-head, she was picking some fruit off of a squat tree in a small clearing. He put his hand on her shoulder to get her attention, and she jumped and spun to look at him. She doubled over laughing with her hand to her chest.

"Oh my god, Jackson. Don't sneak up on me like that!" she said, straightening up while giggling a bit, out of breath. She saw that he wasn't smiling, and her expression fell. "What's wrong?" she asked him. He looked uncomfortable and somewhat unsure, and she stepped away from the tree, setting the picked fruit on the ground. "Is something up with Melissa?"

"Melissa?" Jackson looked at Daley suspiciously. "Why would you say it's something with Melissa?"

"Oh, no reason," Daley said innocently. Jackson analyzed her for a moment, then he fell back to looking troubled. Daley remained persistent, and again asked, "So, what's wrong?"

"I think…" he thought for a moment, trying to come up with a way to arrange the words. "I think there's something going on between Melissa and Nathan."

Daley looked disbelieving and slightly crestfallen. "What are you talking about?"

"Melissa was upset about something, and she and Nathan were sitting on the beach, hugging. They looked pretty cozy."

"That's odd," Daley said, but somehow she sounded as though she believed what he was telling her. "Well Nathan and Melissa _are_ pretty good friends."

"They looked a little more than friendly to me," Jackson said sourly. Daley and Jackson were each aware that the other was romantically involved with either Nathan or Melissa, and both seemed sympathetic, albeit confused.

"Well, I guess we'll find out. Won't we?" Daley asked, and Jackson nodded numbly. She picked up her meager picking of fruit and the two of them walked through the trees back to camp. They found Nathan in the same spot he had been ten minutes ago when Jackson had gone after Daley, and this time he heard them and looked up from cutting fruit. He smiled and stood to take the sack from Daley, but she held it firmly and he let go.

"Uh, something wrong?" he asked gamely. Daley seemed unsure about whether or not she actually wanted to discuss with Nathan what was on her mind, and instead busied herself with rearranging the fruit in their storage. Nathan gave her a queer look, then looked at Jackson, as though to say, _What's up with her?_ Instead of giving Nathan a proper answer, Jackson turned around and started walking into the jungle again. Nathan found it amazing how much time Jackson could spend in the jungle in a single day.

He turned back to Daley and put the fingers of his left hand lightly to her back. She recoiled very slightly, but didn't pull away from his touch.

"Day, what's going on?" he asked, his voice wavering slightly. She put the rest of the fruit down and looked at him seriously.

"Is something going on between you and Melissa?"

Nathan looked shocked, almost to the point of exaggeration. Daley felt her eyebrows rise a bit, but she looked at him steadily.

"N-no!" he stuttered, his voice cracking slightly. "What would make you think something was going on?"

It seemed the opportune moment for the certain darkness that suddenly made its passage over the island. Daley looked up and her gaze was met by dark, angrily-swelled storm clouds. She felt a slick drop beat onto her forehead, then another, until a drizzle formed. She knew it would become full-on rain soon, but she kept her ground. She needed to know.

"Jackson saw you two. He said you guys seemed to be… intimate."

Nathan looked slightly confused, then the worrying creases in his face began to calm. "Oh, he saw me hugging her? Is that all?" He smiled, but Daley didn't seem to have been quelled.

"Why were you hugging her?" she asked, unrelenting. Nathan looked at her stonily for a moment.

"What do you mean, 'Why was I hugging her'?" he asked. "She's my best friend. I'm allowed to comfort her when she's upset."

"Well, what was she upset about?"

Nathan was sure that there were about a million incriminating things she could come up with that ended in him and Melissa having a secret romance. However, those horrible fantasies couldn't be worse than the reality, and he wasn't sure that Melissa wanted him telling anyone before she had even had the chance to tell Jackson. The rain fell heavier, and he could feel his hair dampening and coming down from its usual frizzy halo around his face.

"I can't tell you," he said lamely. Daley looked at him, disbelief and disappointment etched in the lines on her forehead and radiating from her eyes.

"You can't tell me? Well why not? I'm a big girl, Nathan. I'm sure I'll understand."

He looked at her for a moment, trying to make his mind come up with a decision. Instead, all he got was a headache from banging his head against his imaginary brick wall, along with what seemed to be a full-body burn from Daley's incriminating stare. Why on earth was she this upset?

"I really don't think I should tell you, Day."

"Fine," she said, spinning in the now-wet sand and stomping away toward the girls' tent. Nathan watched her for only a moment before he plodded after her and grabbed her arm.

"Daley!"

"What?"

"If I tell you, _please_ don't tell anyone else. Can you promise me that?"

"Oh, for god's sake, Nathan! Fine, I won't tell anyone. So tell me: are you romantically involved with Melissa?" She gave him the piercing look again, only this time he shut it down immediately.

"No! Listen to me." He moved a bit closer to her, and she looked at him questioningly, but accepted him. He leaned toward her ear and whispered something through the heavy fall of raindrops. Her eyes widened almost beyond physical believability and she looked at him.

"You're joking," was all she could think to say to him. He shook his head, and rainwater flecked off of his hair as the curls moved. He leaned in and whispered something in her ear, which seemed to make her feel even better. Then the full impact of his whispers seemed to occur to her, and she said, "Oh my god."

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The rain ended about an hour or so later, and Melissa exited the tent where she had been hiding from the steady teardrops while braiding some new rope for them to use. She really wanted to find Jackson so she could just tell him and get the awkwardness and shock over with. Instead, she found Nathan and Daley, Nathan gutting fish and Daley re-gathering palm fronds. Both looked as though they'd spent their fair shares of time in the rain, but they were back out to working now. She figured one of them had to know where Jackson was.

"Hey, guys," she greeted them. From the surprised and sympathetic look Daley seemed to be giving her, she judged that Nathan had told her the news, or most of it, at least. She would have time to explain to her later, although she probably understood the situation already. She was a smart girl. "Have either of you seen Jackson?"

Nathan shook his damp head, but Daley said, "I think I saw him go into the jungle a little while ago. Not sure what he was _doing_, but yeah." She gave Melissa a smile, which was reciprocated.

"Thanks." She turned and walked where Daley had said Jackson had gone and started her way through the trees.

Fifteen minutes later, she was some depth into the trees and still had no idea where Jackson was. She stopped to get her bearings, then heard something to her right. She trudged through the trees cautiously, in case there was some sort of animal waiting for her. Instead, she found Jackson pacing in a clearing. With vague realization, she noticed that this clearing happened to have been the one that she and Jackson shared their night alone in. She looked around it. Other than the obvious wetness from the rainfall, three months' time didn't seem to have done much to it. She stepped out and, though the wet leaves didn't crunch, the compression from her boots seemed to have made enough noise for Jackson to have noticed and looked up. When he saw her he seemed expectant, yet disappointed.

She decided to take the awkward moment to notice the soothing nature around her. The sky was a profound, dusky blue and the air around them was moist with the residue of tropical rain, yet somehow streaked with a cool, desiccated breeze that caressed and clung to their skin. The forest around them had a captivating scent, sharp and natural—she assumed the smell of wet palm trees. Before she could say a word, she absorbed the soothing energy of the weather around her. It seemed to make telling him that much easier.

"Jackson?"

He looked at her again, and this time they connected, however unwilling he seemed to be. She couldn't even begin to imagine what he was angry with her about: she needed to focus on the news at hand.

"Jackson, can I talk to you?"

"About what?" he asked her bluntly. She looked all around her, willing the wet bark to give her any strength it had to offer.

"It's about… well, sort of about us."

"Oh yeah?" he asked, as though he wasn't entirely surprised. "And let me guess, about you and Nathan, as well?"

"What?" she asked. _What does any of this have to do with Nathan?_

"You and him have been friends for quite some time now. Is it time for you to take the next step in your relationship?"

Melissa was truly off guard. _What on earth is he _talking_ about?_ "Of course not. Nathan's my friend. You know I have feelings for you! That's what I wanted to talk to you about."

"Save it. I already saw you two down on the beach. I can't make you love me, Melissa."

She put her hand to her forehead, steadying. "Jackson, listen. Nathan and I are not romantically involved. Please don't make this harder for me than it already is."

He suddenly seemed to notice that she was out of sorts, and stepped closer to her. "Are you all right?"

At that exact moment, it seemed, her mind flashed her back to that night, some odd months ago, when she and Jackson had spent the night in the jungle by themselves. She suddenly thought of the moment after his fingers had left her, ready to make his big move. She remembered it in such fine detail, remembered the feel of his hand on her back, and her own scent on him. That _scent_. At the time, it had been exhilarating and somehow securing. Now, smelling herself on someone else was a nauseating catalyst.

"Oh," she groaned, then quickly turned away from him to the trees.

"What the…?" he asked himself as he followed her. She bent over at the outskirts of the clearing and suddenly he recognized what she was doing. He put his hand to her back as she choked and was sick. He kept it there as she continued to cough and then, when she had cleaned her mouth with a rag from her pocket and turned to look at him, she seemed to be crying. He couldn't even begin to imagine…

"What is going _on_?" he asked her, letting her put the rag back in her pocket before pulling her to him and wrapping his arms around her, letting one hand support her head as the other fell to the small of her back. She hadn't been sick on her clothes, so he wasn't worried about hugging her. He didn't honestly think he would have cared if she _had_ been sick on herself.

"I don't love Nathan," she said to him in a slight delirium. He smiled to himself and continued to stroke her hair, as she pulled long, calming breaths. She pulled away from him and looked desperately over the planes of his face. "You have to understand, I love Nathan. But he's like my brother. I don't love him the way… the way I love you."

Jackson's chest burned and swelled, but he felt that he could reciprocate her last comment. He kissed her on the cheek, feeling the streaks of tears press effortlessly against his lips.

"Okay." He let her go and held her at arm's length, then put his hands down. "_Please_, tell me what's going on."

She stood away from him for a moment, silently pondering which would be the best way to break the news to him. Nathan was right: he had to know. She couldn't put it off until she started to show. In fact, she already seemed to have gained a bit of weight, but no one else had had the opportunity to notice.

"There's something I need to tell you."

"I kind of figured after all the drama." He smirked and she smiled sheepishly.

"This is serious, Jackson."

"I'm listening."

She took a deep breath, but couldn't seem to let it go. Once she let this breath go, she had to tell him. That was the ultimatum her mind had come up with for her, and she couldn't seem to defy it.

One, two, three, four. Her chest constricted with nerves and want of air. She brought her hand to her throat and fiddled with the necklace there. Six, seven, eight…

Sigh.

"We had sex about three months ago," she began, and Jackson looked slightly surprised at her forwardness, but remained attentive. "We also didn't have any means of protection."

Jackson looked stricken and pale. "What happened?" he asked her with harsh seriousness. She almost didn't want to tell him. "Is something wrong?"

"Well, not technically."

" 'Not _technically_'? What the hell does that mean?"

"Jackson, please relax," Melissa pleaded. His face rapidly transitioned from a sickly white to brilliant pinkish-red in irritation.

"I can't relax. We had sex, and something went wrong. This is the one thing every couple our age fears, and we've just walked right into it!"

"JACKSON!" He shut his mouth and looked at her. She seemed to have set her expression in resolve to get her point to him. "I'm pregnant."

That shut him up for a few minutes. He simply stared at her, and then walked away, pacing around the little clearing. He stopped and looked back at her. "You're…you're…"

"Pregnant," she finished for him, almost impatiently. He continued to stare, and she became self-conscious of the weight she had recently gained. Suddenly, he began to notice the difference in her.

The first he took care to notice was the gentle curvature at her middle that had never been there before, and he felt the overwhelming urge to move forward. He walked quietly toward her and reached his hand out hesitantly. Would she forgive him now?

It seemed so. When his fingers came in contact with her small, curved middle, he was amazed how safe the idea of this conception felt to him. He looked down at the area his hands touched, then up at Melissa.

"So this is real now," he said to her numbly. She looked at him, cocking her head.

"It wasn't real before?"

"No, no. I'm just saying… I don't know, this makes everything so… confirmed. It's so real to me now."

"I think I know what you mean." She looked down, and his hand nervously left her. "It's okay. This… baby is as much yours to nurture as it is mine."

He rolled his eyes pensively. "A baby. A _baby_. You and I… _we_ have a baby." She smiled at him.

"That we do."

"You're having my baby."

She laughed lightly. "I've got it Jackson. I've been throwing up all week, if you need proof."

He stroked her hair distractedly, a hint of a grin on his face. "I'm sorry. It's just… strange. Interesting. Not to mention, I can't really say I've ever experienced this before."

"Neither have I. If I had known there was this much vomit involved in pregnancy, I would've said no that night, for sure!" The sarcastic tone in her voice told him that she was just as happy about this as she was. The only thing that could possibly dampen his spirits was the chaos he knew this would cause at camp.

"Who else knows?"

"Well, you know, I know," he looked at her skeptically, as she was only stating the obvious. "Nathan knows, that's what I was telling him before, when you saw us hugging I guess." He looked slightly ashamed about this part, but let her finish. "And I _think_ Nathan may have told Daley. Other than that… no one I know of."

"Okay, well that works, then. Nathan and Daley won't freak out unless they absolutely have to."

"Right."

Jackson held Melissa loosely to him. He looked at the dusky sky and thought to himself, _I'm in love. I'm in love with the mother of my child._

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**A/N**: Okay, so that didn't come out _quite_ as I'd hoped, but there's the drama for you all. More shall come, but for now be content with this far-too-long chapter, and I'll try to update ASAP.


	4. Don't Tell I Told

Chapter Title: _Don't Tell I Told_

**Disclaimer**: Yo no poseo a _Flight 29 Down_. Nunca voy a poseerlo.

**A/N**: There's some drama for you. Here comes Chapter 4. Hope you can handle it! Heh.

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"Now listen, Jackson," Melssa said warily, repressed relief still evident behind her words. "You can't tell anyone. Promise?"

He stared back at her, his wry grin spreading over his face. "Yeah, because this is exactly what I want to talk to Taylor and Eric about over dinner."

Melissa looked him over impatiently. "I mean it, Jackson. Don't. Tell. Anyone."

His expression became softly serious, and he put his hands on her arms, firmly squeezing her shoulders. "I won't." She looked more openly relieved. "But what happens when you start to show? We'll have to tell them sometime, Mel."

"We?" she asked with a hint of teasing.

"Yes, we. I think we're both pretty responsible for… this." He gestured to her rounding stomach, and she looked at it skeptically.

"It's called a baby," she corrected him, and his grin returned slightly. "I'll… I'll tell them when I'm ready, I guess."

"That's fine," Jackson conceded, and he continued to look at her face. She hadn't stopped staring down, and he couldn't see the emotion on her face. Her shoulder muscles seemed tense, and he could sense the nerves in her. He sighed and pulled her to him. Her arms snaked comfortably around his middle, and he kept his wrapped tightly around her shoulders. "You'll be fine," he said in what he hoped to be a soothing tone of voice. She looked up at him and her eyes didn't seem any more independent of worry than before.

"That's not what I'm worried about. I don't even want to imagine the infant mortality rate for teen mothers."

"Probably a lot less when there's no abortion clinics around," he pondered aloud.

"Not funny. Just imagine how awful you would feel if your baby died."

He looked stricken, yet somehow assured.

"My baby won't die. You're healthy, and Nathan, Daley, and I will do everything we can to help you. And when Abby and Lex find out, I'm sure they'll want to help, too. But I won't tell them!" he added as she gave him a warning glare.

"I've taught you well," she joked, and hugged him one last time. His arms stretched easily over her small form, and he tried to absorb the feeling of having her innocently, gently pressed against him.

"Come on," she said from his shoulder, unwrapping her firm grip. "They're going to start wondering where we've gone. Although, Taylor probably wouldn't care if I disappeared. The sooner I'm gone, the sooner she can—"

"Okay, enough," he cut her off.

"Does she still like you?" Mel asked more seriously.

"Who cares?" he answered finitely, and she sighed.

"I'm going to gain a lot of weight with this pregnancy, Jackson. She's going to start looking really good in a month or so."

Jackson's expression went sour. "That's stupid. If I wanted to be with her, I probably would've done it _before_ I found out about you."

"That's flattering, right?" she asked with joking sarcasm.

"Oh, you know what I mean. You're the one that I want."

"Thanks, Zuko."

"Okay, enough of this." He leaned in to kiss her, and she received him briefly before turning her attention back to the slight pathway that led back to camp. Lately she had used this clearing as a place to think her issues through. Somehow, it calmed her nerves – the smell of the air, the calm blue of the sky above her, the gentle sway of familiar trees. On days she felt sick, she came here after she threw up, and the soft swirl of the wind wrapped itself around her and protected her until she felt better. She had reasonable suspicion that Jackson had made a trip or so back here, as well. Maybe it was just as comfortable a place for him as it was for her.

"Ready to go back?" she asked.

She stared at him questioningly, and he looked pensive.

"Isn't it amazing?" _Thank you, Captain Vague_, Melissa thought.

"What's that?" she prompted.

"At home, we all seem to be so desperate to escape from our miserable, hectic lives. And yet, now that we've escaped, we're actually looking for an escape from our escape."

"Well, isn't that what this clearing is?"

"I guess so."

She stared at him, calculating. Where had all of this come from? "Okay then… Are you all right?

Jackson heaved a slight sigh and gave Melissa a reassuring glance. "Fine. I think your news has me a bit… insane?"

They both laughed and he drew an arm around Melissa's shoulders, holding her snugly to him.

"Back to camp?" she asked.

"Sure." He led her toward the path and they walked through the woods.

When the two finally returned to the camp, it seemed that nothing had changed. The ground was still wet and saturated with rain and Abby, Lex, Nathan, and Daley were doing their best to dry the tents and recover the food and supplies.

Yet, to Jackson, the world had turned profoundly upside down. For whatever reason, this sudden turn of events had had a startling effect on him. He glanced over at Melissa; she seemed content enough with herself and her situation. He supposed that she had been nervous and anxious to tell him; now that it was over, she could live peacefully—at least, until the others found out. As far as he could tell, Nathan had been the first to hear the news; he had then told Daley—probably to salvage his own relationship. The two of them seemed to be taking the news rather calmly. Jackson expected that Abby and Lex would react in the same fashion; Eric might be a bit surprised, given his usual oblivion.

It was Taylor he was really worried about—not because he had feelings for her which matched her own, but more because he knew for a fact that she wasn't morally above sabotage if it meant that she would come closer to Jackson. However—given Melissa's fragile state—Jackson knew that Taylor's cruel mind-games would come to be extremely unwelcome.

To speak of the devil—"Hey, Jackson," Taylor called to him as he split off from Melissa. "Were you two in there alone?" She emphasized "alone" as if to allude to something scandalous. "Not doing anything dirty, I hope," she said, with what he guessed was her perception of an innocent-yet-vixenish grin. _A bit late for that_, he thought sarcastically.

"We don't all think like that, Taylor," he said curtly. Technically, though, he had been the one who had reckless sex with someone on the island—not Taylor. He had lived one moment in spontaneous passion, and had consequently screwed everything up. _Damn it!_ With that thought to dampen his light mood, he took the machete in hand and went toward the forest to find more wood and possibly bamboo.

"Where are you going?" Taylor asked shrilly, falling in step beside him.

"The woods." As if that would be a sufficient answer for her.

"Why?"

"Because."

"Oh, you're funny," she said half-sarcastically.

"I'd like to think so," he said distractedly, not holding the sarcasm from seeping through his words.

She walked with him for a moment, then stopped short before him and turned in his direction. "Do you not want to talk to me or something?"

"What tipped you off?" he asked agitatedly.

"Whoa – what'd I ever do to you?"

"Nothing, Taylor. God, you're just so _annoying_ sometimes!" That had come out harsher than he intended, but it had the desired effect—Taylor finally backed off. She stepped aside and walked past him and out of the forest. _Thank you!_

As Taylor walked toward the camp, she glanced back at Jackson, furious and analytical. What had gotten into him? She was so close to finally getting him for herself. What had gone wrong?

Well, it was obviously something involving Melissa. That was the only possible explanation. The question was, what had changed?

If she tried just a bit harder, she knew she could make Jackson crumble under her pink flip flop. She grinned.

Melissa sifted happily through a pile of fruit, trying to pick out ones that looked ripe and ready to serve, while throwing overripe ones in a separate pile in the sand.

"Well _you_ seem happy," Daley observed with a grin, dumping a pile of fresh fruit next to Mel. "Did you tell Jackson?"

"Yeah," Melissa confessed joyfully. "And I'm guessing Nathan told you." The comment was light, and there was only a very slight stirring of agitation at the back of Melissa's mind. She tamped it down and smiled genially.

Daley reddened with little effort. "Yeah, sorry. I was a bit upset before, and I made him tell me. Is that okay?"

"Yeah, it's all right," Melissa assured her, continuing her fruit analysis. When Daley didn't leave to resume her duties, Melissa looked back up at her. "What's up?"

Daley looked uncomfortable and hesitated before asking, "Are you scared?"

Melissa seemed slightly stricken; she and Daley had never been best friends, had never had heart-to-hearts while doing each other's nails and gossiping about boys. She didn't know whether to answer Daley's question with formality or truth. She decided on the latter. She stopped smiling and her voice was filled with sadness and insecurity that spouted from an icy geyser in her heart.

"Day, I don't know what I'm going to do. I mean, sure I'm healthy. We all are, in some definition of the word. But… I don't think I'm ready for this."

"Of course you're not," Daley said, sitting next to Melissa and putting her arm around the other girl's shoulders, pulling her close. Mel felt more awkward than ever, yet understood that she shouldn't question this sudden closeness she was experiencing with Daley. She let her head fall onto Daley's shoulder and tears flowed cleanly over the bridge of her nose, hitting the base of Day's neck and collarbone.

"I don't know what I'm going to do," she repeated. "We're barely holding on, ourselves. This is too much. I mean… Day, none of us can handle this. What if I have the baby and we're still stuck here? That's going to be a stress that I don't want to impose on you guys. And I don't want to experience the death of a child. My child. Not now, not ever." She cried harder than ever and Daley put a hand to Mel's hair, stroking it shakily. She wasn't sure what to say.

"That isn't going to happen, Melissa." Daley knew it was something of a lie, that Jackson had probably assured her the same thing. In reality, none of them could ensure that Melissa's baby would turn out to be healthy, or that Melissa would be able to carry a baby full term, whether they remained stranded or were rescued. She was too young to have any desire to find out.

Melissa lifted her head and wiped her eyes. Sniffling, she looked at Daley and smiled. "I'm sorry. Jackson and I already had this discussion, and… you know what? Whatever happens will happen. That's just how it'll be. I'm fine. Ugh," she groaned, looking over at Daley. "I don't even want to imagine what my parents will say." Without knowing she had any tears left to shed, more pooled in her eyes and rolled swiftly down her cheeks. "Or the kids in school. I'll never live through this. What will they think of me? I've always been the good girl. And now suddenly, I'm pregnant. Some of them are bound to be smart enough to figure out that means I had sex." She let out a sobbing laugh and Daley looked at her with a soft, considerate stare. "Well, I guess Jackson's going to have a whole new bag of issues to deal with. And it's all my fault…" she dissolved into a puddle of sobs and hid in Daley's shoulder, hysterical for a few minutes as these thoughts of embarrassment and guilt manifested in her mind. She quelled them and brought a hand to her cheeks, wiping them of the salty tears.

"I'm sorry, Day. I'm fine. Really."

"It's okay," Daley said. She couldn't blame Melissa for crying or being upset; Daley had practically _asked_ for that to happen in opening the topic of fear. She stood up, gave Melissa a last calm pat on the shoulder, and walked away.

"Well _that_ was fun," Melissa groaned to herself, sniffling and grabbing another fruit.

Jackson hacked at a thick tree branch, his raw and tense energy flowing through his arms to the machete. How had they never anticipated this? If he didn't love Melissa so much, he would completely regret what they had done together. As it was, he realized that he did actually love Melissa. It was a relief to know this now, but it still posed the problem of what to do about her being pregnant. The truth was, he didn't know the first thing about being a boyfriend, much less a _father_. He had spent so much time being angry and moving from foster home to foster home when he was growing up that he had never taken the time to think about settling down. It had always seemed like a foreign concept—something other people did, but that he would never have the opportunity to do.

He heard something rustling in the bushes. Springing to the ready, he turned with the machete raised, prepared to strike, if need be. He listened carefully for a moment, before a blonde-headed girl emerged from the brush.

"What do you want, Taylor?" he asked, lowering the knife and turning back to his half-hacked tree.

"You shouldn't be so rude, after the way you treated me before."

"Look," he said to her impatiently, "I don't have time to play games with you, Taylor. Tell me what you want."

"You," she soldiered boldly. "I want you to want _me_. I want you to _stop_ skirting the fact that we belong together, Jackson! I swear, I will make it happen. I'll just tell her—"

"You'll tell her _what_?" Jackson challenged, melting back into fiery discord.

"I'll tell her we're in love. I'll tell her you're not interested in her. I don't care what I have to tell her! You _will_ end up with me."

For the first time in a while, Taylor felt as she controlled the situation. She had Jackson under her heel, twisting and squeezing until he was undeniably submissive.

"You wouldn't," he said threateningly. His eyes were narrowed dangerously, and he looked ready to pounce in his newfound fury.

_Different approach, different approach_, she thought frantically in hope of self-preservation. She breathed and airy fake-sigh. "Of course I wouldn't. You don't think I'm _that_ awful, do you?" She didn't wait for the answer she knew would fly from his mouth. "Just… have you ever told yourself something so many times that you actually started to believe it was true?"

Jackson was almost afraid to look at her. There was no way that she could be perfectly sympathizing with his life. "What do you mean?"

"Well, like when we first crashed here, you know I kept telling everyone we wouldn't be here long?" _How could I forget?_ he thought bitterly. "I was saying that more for myself than any of you… and it was more helpful than running around squawking like a surprised chicken like Nathan and Daley." Jackson laughed inwardly; it was true.

"Well all it did was make you seem naïve," he said with a faulty condescending undertone.

"Well I was _trying_ to make everyone hopeful! I was trying to make myself think that I might not _die_ on this stupid little patch of sand!"

In truth, Jackson knew all about trying to convince himself of things. Mainly one thing: he tried to believe that, someday, he would find a home—a real home—and be satisfied. Somewhere in him, he was sure that it couldn't happen for him, because he just wasn't made for happiness. There was always that small part of him, though, that still wanted—_needed_—to believe that there was hope for him somewhere.

Taylor knew all of this. She knew about his situation and knew that he was hurting. She'd heard fragments of conversation and had once stumbled upon him recording the ending of a video diary. He didn't know this, but she'd hid in the bushes, listening to him finish talking about his unsatisfactory foster homes. It was perfect ammunition.

"Do you know what I mean?" she asked him simply.

He was hesitant to give her the satisfaction of agreement. "I guess so," he said diffidently. She showed a soft, pleading look, as though she was begging him to understand her. _Fake_, she thought to herself. "Yeah, I know what you mean."

She wore her grin triumphantly. "Why can't you understand how similar we are? Can't you see what I mean?"

His guard flickered and resurrected itself, shielding him like an invisible wall. She couldn't trick him: he saw through her. "No, Taylor, I don't. I wish you'd stop talking as though _we_ were a possibility."

She rolled her eyes and trashed the façade. "Okay, you're giving me no choice here. I _will_ get what I want."

"Or what?"

Her fire blazed, spat angry embers and sparks. "I'll tell Melissa about us! Exactly as I said before. Don't think I won't."

Jackson panicked. Something in the desperate anger of Taylor's voice frightened him. He had to tell her something, and at the moment his mind wouldn't permit him to create some sort of fabrication to make her leave. All it did was scream the truth at him. It burst.

"She's _what?_" Taylor fumed.

"Not a _word_, Taylor!" Jackson said. He suddenly couldn't believe he'd told Taylor. Somehow, he didn't think that _telling_ her not to tell anyone would actually stop her.

"Don't worry, I won't," she responded, half in shock, half calculating. This secret was too valuable to waste.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N: I am _so_ sorry that this chapter took forever. I just can't focus on anything… So yeah, I apologize. I hope someone's still reading this, heh.


	5. And the Blame Goes To

Chapter Title: And the blame goes to…

**Disclaimer**: I don't own _F29D_, blah blah blah. And really bad eggs.

**A/N**: So, the cat's out of the bag (pardon my nauseating use of the cliché). Hopefully I'll get this chapter out in less than one human gestation period. 

--

At camp, Melissa was occupying herself with cleaning fruit and other food items. Jackson and Nathan had decided that they could assign her lighter jobs that would require less manual labor. It made her feel weak, but she knew that they were probably right. As she picked away a little clump of dirt that was stuck to a mango, she heard something rustle in the trees behind her. She turned and saw Taylor sauntering giddily from the trees. What she could possibly have to be so happy about, Melissa didn't know.

"_I know a secret_," she sang. As though she thought it was an important announcement, she reiterated: "_I know a secret_."

"What is it, Taylor?" Melissa asked in surprisingly good humor.

"We-ell," Taylor drawled off, extending the suspense as long as possible, "_someone_ told me a little secret about you, Melissa."

She froze. Who told her? Jackson wouldn't have told: it was his secret, too. Nathan would never do something to hurt her like that. That left—

"So, anyway," Taylor chimed cheerily, "I was wondering if you could help me with some of my chores today."

Melissa groaned. "Taylor, I'm kind of busy right now."

Taylor was sympathetic. At least, she seemed to be. "Oh, that's all right. Hey, I wonder where Eric is," she commented pensively, "I'm sure _he_ would appreciate some juicy gossip."

Melissa could have cried. Maybe she was wrong, but it sounded as though Taylor was black-mailing her. _She wouldn't do that, would she? She's not _that_ low._

But she conceded easily. Before Taylor could flit off to tell Eric, Melissa called her.



"Taylor!" Taylor's eyes remained fixed upon Melissa. "Um if you don't tell anyone what you've heard, I'll do your chores."

"Oh, thank you!" Taylor squealed graciously. "You're the best."

"Um, Taylor," Melissa continued uneasily, "would you mind telling me where you heard it from?"

"Oh, sorry, Mel," Taylor responded with the fakest sympathy possible, "can't tell you that. I promised I'd keep it a secret." Before Melissa could refute the decision, Taylor cooed a little good-bye and skipped off to who-knows-where, leaving Melissa not only to her chores, but also to Taylor's, which were almost entirely incomplete. Melissa sighed, brushed her hair off her shoulder, and got back to what had just become a long day of work.

--

That afternoon, when Melissa had finished her own workload, she went to find Nathan. What she found was picturesque: Nathan had taken a towel and was laying on it on the beach, hands woven beneath his head of wildly curled hair as he stared serenely at the sunset. She walked over to join him and lay on her side, staring at the smooth skin of his face and arm. He straightened the arm closest to her face and used it to pull her to him in a small hug. She let her head rest on his shoulder and could have fallen asleep there, she was so tired.

"What's the matter, Mel?"

"I think Taylor knows," she responded with complacent distress. It was an odd emotion: factual, yet still nerve-irritating.

Nathan didn't move, but she saw his face contort to one of awe and disbelief. "How could she know? I didn't tell her, I swear."

"I know you didn't, Nathan." Melissa paused, not sure if she should bother picking a fight with him or just leave her thoughts at the back of her mind. "Nathan, you told Daley, right?"

"Yeah, I kind of had to…" he stopped himself and looked at her. "You don't think _she_ told Taylor, do you?" he asked incredulously.

"Okay, just hear me for a second," she said before he could get up and storm off. "Who knows about this? Me, you, Jackson, and Daley. And now Taylor," she added as an afterthought. "Now, clearly I didn't tell her. And you didn't, I believe you on that. That leaves Jackson and Daley. It's 

Jackson's secret as much as it is mine, so why would he tell Taylor about it?" Nathan sighed. She looked at him until she caught his eye.

"What do you want me to say?" he asked, removing his arm. _Uh oh,_ she thought, _now he's mad at me._ "I'm not going to say she did it. I don't think she did. I don't know how Taylor found out, but Daley wouldn't do that!"

"I know that, Nathan. I'm not questioning her morals or anything here. I'm just saying that I think, for whatever reason, she told Taylor my secret, and I don't think that it's right. It wasn't even her secret to tell."

Nathan couldn't seem to decide whether to be indignant or accepting. Her logic made a maddening amount of sense, to his dismay. However, he couldn't bring himself to concede until he'd confronted Daley.

"Look, Mel, just let me talk to Daley before we put her on trial." In the back of his head, he was sure that Daley hadn't done it. He couldn't convince Melissa of that until he'd talked to a few people, though—Daley being first, followed closely by Taylor.

"That's fine," she said stiffly, still upset and strong in her convictions. "But honestly, Nathan, do you think that she'll just come out and say, 'Hey, yeah, it was me! I'm the one who told Taylor.' She's not stupid, Nathan. She knows it was the wrong thing to do."

"If she did it, she'll be upset because she _knows_ you, Mel! She knows how upset you'll be, because she also _knows_ that Taylor can't keep her mouth shut. Why are you being like this? You're friends with Daley! Why are you suddenly so sure she's the evil one here?" He fumed for a moment before he noticed that Melissa was crying. He'd upset a pregnant woman—or, he felt in this case—a pregnant girl.

"I don't know why I'm being like this," she moaned at him. She ran her fingers through her hair, pulling and dragging on the strands, as though pain was the objective of the motion. He pulled her hands down and hugged her to him, tight.

"Of course you do. It's okay. Just… maybe wait until you come to your senses before you start accusing people?" He stroked her hair and let her breath slow to a calm pace. He let go. "It's fine. I think we need to go talk to Daley, though…" he trailed off, giving Melissa a meaningful look. She nodded, her eyes moist. He squeezed her again in a small half-hug, then pushed her gently to the side. "Just one second, though. I want to see what Taylor's up to."

**A/N**: I am _so_ unbelievably sorry that this story is taking me so long. I'm kind of losing steam, so I've got an idea. If you could review for me and maybe tell me what you think should happen, I'll be able to get some energy back into the storyline. I know where I want it to end up, but not sure how to get there just yet. All feedback is welcome!


	6. Under Wraps

Chapter Title: _Under Wraps_

**Disclaimer**: Not mine.

**A/N**: For those of you who have stuck around up to this point, thank you. I've been totally uninspired lately, but I'm trying my best. Thanks to those of you who posted suggestions on my last chapter. Much appreciated. Now, let's keep this stupid ball rolling…

--

"Taylor, what did you do?"

Nathan was furious. He found Taylor alone at the camp, attempting to rub some dirt from her worn out bathing suit. The colors had faded from excessive wear, but Taylor still treated it as though it were a fine article, worthy of no one lower than herself. She held the suit up, surveyed it for a moment or so—all the time with Nathan fuming a few feet behind her—and finally folded it and rested it carefully on a nearby rock. She turned to him, her face devilishly innocent.

"Cleaned my swimsuit?" She said in a light half-questioning tone. She smiled. "I can still be civilized without a washing machine."

"You know what I mean, Taylor." He didn't feel like putting up with any of her crap right now. Melissa was still sitting on the beach waiting for him, and he wanted to get this over with before he let her talk to Taylor or anyone else.

"Um…" She contemplated for a moment while Nathan's biceps flexed in irritation. The idea of strangling Taylor was almost lusciously appealing.

"_To Melissa_," Nathan gritted at her. "I can't _believe_ you would stoop _this low_ to get out of your chores! And if you're bluffing I'll kill you. She's really upset."

Taylor grinned. "No, see, the trick to playing cards is that every once in a while you actually have to have the right cards. I'm pretty sure that what I have right now is a royal flush."

Nathan continued to fume as he asked what she was talking about. He knew she must be telling the truth: Taylor wasn't _this_ good of a liar. She wasn't this stupid either. She knew that someone would ask what the secret was, and she would actually be prepared.

She didn't budge, though.

"Nope, this secret's too good. Why, Nathan, don't you know? I mean, you _are_ supposed to be her best friend, aren't you?"

"That's beside the point, Taylor. Of course I know. The question is, how much do _you_ know?"



Her grin widened exponentially. "Enough to know that Jackson isn't quite as trustworthy as everyone seems to think."

…_What?_

"What are you talking about?" he asked hesitantly. This could not end well.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about, Nathan. Don't be yelling at me, when it's not _my_ fault Jackson's a big mouth."

"I'm _still_ going to yell at you, Taylor! No normal human being torments a pregnant person"—he carefully replaced "woman" in favor of the word "person"—"like this!" He glared analytically at her face to read if there was any trace of surprise or intrigue at his utterance of Melissa's condition. Her face remained in the Cheshire-cat-grin she had been wearing before—proof that she hadn't been bluffing. The only change was that the grin seemed to have been taken down a notch at Nathan's insult. Her resolve faltered.

"Look, Nathan," she began matter-of-factly, "I received a serious piece of juicy information. What _else_ was I supposed to do with it? Tell the whole camp?"

"Maybe that would have been better than using it to TORTURE MELISSA!" Nathan roared at her. The grin vanished. Nathan was not as intimidating as Jackson, but he was more open with his anger. He didn't move toward her in any sort of offensive move, yet she cringed a fraction of a millimeter before straightening again and sighing.

"I guess you're right, Nathan. I'll go apologize to Melissa."

_That was too easy_, Nathan thought. _What's she up to…_

Before he could voice his concern, Taylor was trudging off to find Melissa. Nathan made a quick run and spun around to stand in front of her.

"What the—"

"I'm going with you," he said with absolute resolve. He couldn't trust Taylor to do the right thing. Everything he knew about her had taught him otherwise.

"Fine," she said indifferently. She allowed Nathan to lead her until they found Melissa, quietly working on the laundry—one of Taylor's chores. Taylor smiled at the extra opportunity.

"Hey, Mel," she called when they were within Melissa's earshot. She looked up and smiled wearily from her work—Taylor's work.

"Hey, guys." Melissa's voice cracked and Taylor could tell that she had been crying. In her head her eyes rolled. _What a baby_, she thought, then pushed the slur from her mind.



"Listen," Taylor began, getting on her knees—as Melissa was, in order to do the laundry—"I feel awful for what I did before, so I was thinking that maybe I could take my chores back for the rest of the day. I'll even do some of yours, if you'd like."

Nathan looked onto the exchange with rising suspicion. What was happening here, and why was Taylor suddenly being so…reasonable? He couldn't help but question where the sudden generosity had come from, but he figured that if it would keep Melissa happy, then Taylor could pretend to be whatever she wanted.

Melissa grinned with unexpected relief. She swiped the back of her wrist over her forehead and looked to Nathan, then back to Taylor.

"Thank you so much," she said, grin still in place. "I've already done my chores, and about half of yours—"

"Oh, well then let me at least finish my chores. And maybe I'll pick up some of yours tomorrow!"

Nathan was frozen. This was over the top now. Taylor was not this nice, even when she was actually guilty. Melissa's smile remained, but her glance at Nathan was slightly confused and scrutinizing. He shrugged from behind Taylor, knowing that only Melissa would see it. She returned her attention to Taylor.

"Um, thanks a lot, but I think I'll handle my own chores." She had declined politely, without a hint of the insult that Nathan felt Taylor deserved. Taylor continued to smile in the hopes of keeping Melissa smiling.

"Whatever you want. Here, I'll finish the laundry and you can go hang out, okay?"

Melissa continued to scrutinize the situation as she dropped the clothes and let them sit. She stood and Taylor took her place, beginning to wash one of the boys' shorts. Nathan took Melissa by the arm and led her away, both of them trying to communicate enough with their eyes to understand what was going on. Neither had come up with an answer.

"Thanks again," Melissa called back to Taylor. She smiled before going back to work, and Melissa allowed Nathan to tow her away.

When they were out of earshot, Melissa turned to Nathan.

"What on earth…"

"I have no idea," Nathan said distractedly. The distress in his voice worried Melissa, but she tried to have some faith that this situation wouldn't turn out as badly as they expected.

It wouldn't. It would turn worse.

**A/N**: I know this is a really shitty chapter, but I figured I would get the suspense going now so you'll have something worthwhile to wait for while I write something a little juicier. Reviews are always welcome, though please refrain from telling me that I'm a crappy writer or anything stupid like that. Thanks much!


	7. The Domino Effect

Chapter Title: _The Domino Effect_

**Blanket Disclaimer**: I do not own any TV shows that you've ever seen. Ever. I also don't own actors, islands, unicorns, carrier pidgeons, water guns, laser beams, or anything else that might make its way into those twisted shows you kids watch these days [why, in my day we had four TV stations and three of them were the news! Spoiled kids…]. I own the storyline that was created in MY head and possibly some of the ideas that were given to me through reviews (and if I get sued for those, so help me God…). There's my disclaimer. There will be no more disclaimers on anything else I write because they're a pain in the ass and they're useless because no one is planning to sue me for stealing television shows. Chew on that for a hot second.

**A/N**: Sorry for that disgustingly long disclaimer, but it was kind of just a nice little stream of consciousness of my frustration with disclaimers. Now I'll actually get into the story… here we go!

---

"Oh, well then let me at least finish my chores. And maybe I'll pick up some of yours tomorrow!" _Ugh, as if._

"Um, thanks a lot, but I think I'll handle my own chores." _Damn right you will_.

"Whatever you want. Here, I'll finish the laundry and you can go hang out, okay?" _That's right, go hang out with Nathan. I dare you to try and figure out what I'm thinking_.

Taylor watched Melissa and Nathan saunter off, Melissa calling back a suspicious thank you before allowing Nathan to pull her fully away from the scene. She went back to the laundry, scrubbing at the shorts absently. She could still make this work for her. Nathan _had _told her that it would be better to tell the camp than to torture Melissa. Actually, she didn't even need to tell the whole camp—just one person.

---

Melissa couldn't deal with this. She excused herself from Nathan and walked into the trees. Nathan followed her as she stopped, braced herself with a hand against a sturdy trunk, and vomited violently into the leaves. He pulled loose strands of hair away from her face and laid a hand protectively on her back, stroking calm circles between her shoulder blades and down over her spine.

"What's going on?" Jackson's voice was close behind them. Nathan turned around and stepped quickly aside as Jackson's hot hand rested firmly on the small of her back. For some reason her heart hightailed and she whimpered as the nausea roiled angrily in her stomach and she threw up again. "Melissa, what's wrong?" his voice was slightly distressed, but she didn't want to turn to look at him.

"I… I need something to…" She made a wiping motion over her face and Nathan went to find a cloth to wet for her. Melissa was still trembling as Jackson pulled her slowly upright and wrapped his arms around her, locking her arms over her chest and holding her, still facing away from him. She shivered quietly as the nausea slipped away and she was left with the empty shock and tension. She felt weak against Jackson's iron hold, and she must have been unintentionally making a fuss, because he was shushing calmly in her ear. Nathan came back with two cloths. One he gave Melissa for her mouth, and the other he used to carefully wipe over her face. The water was cool and it felt good on her overheated skin. He wiped carefully over her forehead and cheeks, clearing the frustrated tears from her eyes. He touched the back of his hand to his own forehead, and then to Melissa's.

"No fever or anything. She's just hyped up." He directed this to Jackson, knowing that he was already concerned for her. He didn't seem to be paying attention.

"Melissa, what's wrong? What happened?" he asked authoritatively. He turned her to face him and his fingers stroked over her forehead and once through her hair.

"Taylor," she said quietly.

His nostrils flared. "What about her?"

"She knows. How does she know?"

Jackson's face flushed slightly. Fortunately, Melissa was looking down and wasn't very perceptive. Nathan, however, was more vigilant.

"I don't know," Jackson answered quietly. He hugged her to him tightly and ignored the burning, curious look he was receiving from Nathan. "But I think I'll have a word with her."

Melissa pushed gently away from him and wiped her eyes.

"This is so ridiculous. This is causing so much trouble! I mean… what happens when the others notice? I can't deal with this, guys. It's too risky." She took a deep, shuddering breath and resolved herself to bring up the next point. "Isn't there any way to…" she petered off, but both boys knew what she meant. A way to get rid of it.

Jackson was suddenly infuriated. "No," he said flatly. "That's not happening. There's no way to do it without risking your life. I don't know about anyone else, but I'm not prepared to take that chance."

Melissa looked ashamed at being the one to bring the suggestion, but at the same time she knew that this was stressing them all. There seemed to be no way to bring positivity to the situation.

"Look," he said, pulling Melissa's face closer to him and holding her between his hands, "I'm going to talk to Taylor. Nathan," he turned his attention to Nathan, not letting go of Melissa's face, "take her back to the camp. Stay with Abby and Lex and Eric." He turned back to Melissa and pressed a quick kiss to her forehead.

Nathan nodded, and did as he was told. He steered Melissa away and passed a quick message to Jackson in a swift glare, asking him what had really happened. Jackson returned with something resembling a pleading glance and walked away. Nathan stowed the concern for later and returned his attention to Melissa.

"What's going on?" she asked him warily.

He sighed. "I have no idea. Nothing good." They trudged back to camp. In the time it had taken them to discuss with Jackson, Taylor's plan had already been set in motion.

---

"TAYLOR!"

Jackson stomped along the length of the beach in a blind rage as he searched for Taylor. He couldn't believe he had trusted her. He had actually thought that she would be kind enough to keep this secret for him. He should have known better than that.

Finally he spotted her carrying some fruit from the trees, eating a piece as she went. He made eye contact with her and her happy, confident expression faltered. He made his way toward her until there was no more than a foot between them.

His eyes burned solidly into her as he spoke. "_What did you do?_"

She decided that she couldn't pull the "What do you mean?" tactic on him. She decided to be honest. "You didn't expect me to do _nothing_ with a secret like that. Come on, Jackson."

"'_Come on, Jackson_'? Taylor, are you serious? This wasn't a piece of gossip like back in high school. This is real life." He cursed in frustration. "Taylor, _grow up!_"

That was when it finally hit. What was he playing at, being condescending to her? He wasn't any older or smarter. It had been _his_ decision to give her the information. He was no better than she was.

"Whatever, Jackson," she said acidly, and stomped away with her fruit toward camp. Jackson stayed and fumed for a moment before he followed her.

---

As they walked toward the camp, nothing looked unusual. Lex and Abby were cleaning fish while Eric sat off to the side and pretended to do the same. It wasn't until Nathan and Melissa entered the scene that the situation changed dramatically.

For one, Eric burst into inexplicable laughter—the kind he usually had when he had just learned something amazingly revealing or embarrassing.

Lex suddenly looked abashed, and refused to look at either of them. He was no longer interested in his fish, though, so he seemed content with staring warily at Abby.

Abby's reaction was the most severe. At first she did nothing more than pick more violently at her fish, sometimes accidentally sacrificing little bits and pieces of actual meat in her agitation. Finally she threw the fish into the bucket and wheeled towards Melissa and Nathan.

"How could you be so stupid?" she asked Melissa. Her voice was the embodiment of acid, hatred, anger, hurt, disbelief—all of these somehow rolled into one scathing sentence. Melissa flinched and Nathan automatically stepped forward, staring at Abby with shock and fury.

"Back off," he said loudly, almost shielding Melissa with his body. She pushed him aside a bit and stood next to him instead.

"She's pregnant!" Abby screeched angrily. "How could you do that? Did you have any idea what impact that would have on the rest of us? How are we supposed to feel towards Jackson now? We can't look at him the same way. This was _so_ irresponsible and _stupid_! How are we supposed to take care of a baby, Melissa? We can hardly take care of ourselves—"

"Now wait a minute—!"

"Shut up, Nathan. Now if we can't take care of ourselves, how are we supposed to take care of a pregnant girl and _then_ a baby? We don't have the skills or equipment to take care of a baby. What if it gets sick? We have no idea how to handle that. Do you guys care at all about what happens to us, or were you only thinking about yourselves and your stupid little romance?"

Melissa stood through this whole speech, progressing through sadness, self-hatred, helplessness, until finally she reached anger. "Abby, STOP YELLING AT ME! For god's sake, I feel awful about this. I don't need you sitting here giving me a little tirade. I've heard enough! I've thought about this. I didn't _plan_ for this to happen, and I'm sorry that I was so irresponsible. Just don't blame Jackson for this."

"Don't try to defend him now! I'm going to _assume_ that he had some part in this, too." She gestured toward Melissa's middle, where the bump had grown more apparent in their recent enlightenment. Everyone seemed to be staring at it, and it made Melissa uncomfortable.

"Abby, neither of us planned for this to happen. We weren't trying to make anyone's lives harder. You seem to be forgetting that _our_ lives are just as hard as yours right now. Neither of us has any special privileges or anything."

"Grow up, Melissa," Abby retorted. "What do you think is going to happen? Jackson and Nathan will do anything they can to protect you. Even if the rest of us don't comply, they're going to be sacrificing a lot of food to keep you healthy. How is that going to affect them? Are you really willing to let them starve themselves just to take care of you?"

"Abby, ENOUGH!" Nathan finally stopped her. Melissa stood like stone, willing herself not to cry. She couldn't cry yet. Not in front of the others.

Lex stood up. He had watched the exchange with panicky horror, trying to think of a way to solve the problem and keep the girls from killing one another. In reality, Melissa looked as though she might break down at any moment, so maybe it was important than he stopped the fighting before Abby had a chance to really do damage.

"Guys, stop it."

They all stared at him. He had definitely been the last one expected to speak. However, it was also surprising that Eric had chosen to stay silent throughout the squabble. He merely retained a look of entertained surprise as he reclined with another excuse not to work.

"Listen," Lex began again, "you guys need to stop fighting and think of what we're going to do. Abby, there's no point in yelling at Melissa about what she can't undo. Instead of yelling at each other we need to try and fix the situation and make it better."

Nathan had no idea how Lex always managed to sound years above his maturity level, but somehow he did and Nathan was thankful for it. He put his arm around the kid's shoulders and gave him an affectionate squeeze as he looked at the girls and agreed. Abby sighed in defeat.

"Sorry, Melissa," she groaned. She didn't sound repentant, but at least it was a start.

"No problem." Melissa wouldn't be able to stand with a straight face much longer. She excused herself and left.

"TAYLOR!"

They all heard Jackson's voice from the camp. Fortunately, Melissa was already far enough in the woods that she wouldn't hear him, or at least wouldn't feel the need to turn back.

Suddenly Taylor appeared and they could all see that another confrontation was about to break in the camp. Lex huffed and Nathan prepared himself. Eric just kept laughing. Nathan seriously considered smacking him before turning his attention back to Taylor and Jackson.

---

She started crying before she even reached the clearing. Melissa found the nearest boulder-sized rock and sat on it as she started inexplicably bawling.

Daley appeared from the nearby trees with the video camera. "What happened?" Daley put down the camera and strode over to sit next to Mel.

"Taylor happened," Melissa said bitterly. She didn't look at Daley as the bitterness sank into her. She put her face in her hands and felt as though she would like nothing better than to curl up and cry her insides out. Daley moved closer, but didn't touch her.

"Look, Melissa, you know Taylor. You had to have known that she wouldn't just roll over and play dead. She has to be the center of attention, and she has to make herself look better. You have to stop letting her get to you or you'll never stop crying."

Melissa sighed and put her hands on her lap. "It's not just that. Abby was yelling at me."

"How does Abby know?" Daley asked with slight irritation.

"I guess Taylor told them. Lex and Eric know, too."

"She told _Lex?_" Daley asked, now infuriated.

"I think so. He didn't seem all that surprised when Abby mentioned it."

Daley took a deep, steadying breath and sighed. "Look, Mel, not everyone is going to be as hard on you as Abby is. I just wish they hadn't told Lex…"

"Daley, I'm sorry about Lex, but what do you think _I_ should do?"

Daley sighed heavily. "Mel, honestly, the best thing to do is just try not to get upset over Abby. You _know_ Abby! She's not too good at taking things in stride; she gets really stressed when things go a little off-course."

"Yeah, but Daley this is kind of a LOT off course! I mean, maybe the problem is just that she's right. I can't help feeling totally guilty. I mean, obviously there's no one else who could possibly be at fault for this. This is all me—"

"You seem to have forgotten Jackson. You didn't exactly do it by yourself."

"That's not the point. The point is that it's not like we can just pass this off as a communal mistake or something. Look at me!" She gestured to her middle and Daley rolled her eyes.

"We've had this conversation before. Look, none of us is mad at you except Abby. You and Nathan are best friends and you know he'll do anything for you. I will, too."

Melissa glared at the ground. "You're wrong."

Daley stared at her. "What do you mean?"

"Abby isn't the only one who's mad at me." A few final tears slipped in angry paths down her cheeks and she stood up, wiping her face with the back of her hand.

"Who else is mad at you? I'm not… I don't think Lex is… Eric…"

"Taylor," Melissa finished for her.

"What did you do that would make her mad at you?"

Melissa took on a look of knowing depression. "You really don't know?" Daley looked almost confused. "I got Jackson. Now I'm getting payback."

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**A/N**: Okay, I'm officially not cut out to be an author… I suck at speedy delivery and all that jazz. Here you go. I'm gonna try to move it along a little faster because things haven't even gotten interesting yet.


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